


right here with me

by themuslimbarbie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCTV
Genre: Drug-Induced Sex, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuslimbarbie/pseuds/themuslimbarbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heat that fills the air no longer drives Sara as crazy as it did before.  (That or she’s given into it, finding pleasure in the insanity.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	right here with me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ragless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragless/gifts).



> Prompt: secrets, the supernatural, summer sweat.

* * *

**Take all of me**  
 **I just wanna be the girl you like**  
 **The kinda girl you like**  
 **Is right here with me**  
– Beyoncé

* * *

Sara has never been a fan of the heat. Summers in Starling were always cooler than most places, so she never had a reason to become acclimated to anything too severe. It only got worse when she got to Nanda Parbat, hidden in the northern parts of Tibet, where the cold was more of a threat than the heat.

So when she's assigned a mission, a poison-specialist named Rose, who decides to run off to Mexico, Sara's less than thrilled. But she's hardly surprised. It's not really a secret that the world has a tendency of giving her exactly what she doesn't want.

 

She almost falls off the ledge as she attempts to open her bedroom window. She catches her balance at the last minute, but it's more than enough to indicate that Rose's poisons definitely got to Sara before she completed her mission. It doesn't help that she just so happened to land the one inn in the entire country with a broken air conditioner.

A cold bath, she thinks as she pulls her leather jacket off so quickly it practically burns her. She needs to get away from the heat. It will only make things worse. The water will help, she tells herself as she tosses her mask and wig across the floor, clear her mind.

 

Her corset only has two strings off when someone knocks at her door. She instinctively reaches for her bo staff even though a part of her knows that an actual threat wouldn't take the time to politely knock. Still, she keeps it behind her back as she approaches the door. However, the moment she opens it, her weapon slips from her hands and lands on the floor with hard clank. She hears it, but barely registers it, her attention too focused on the sight in front of her.

"Felicity?"

The blonde girl just grins.

 

She doesn't quite register what exactly Felicity's saying or why she's here. Sara's much more concerned with figuring out whether or not she's actual real or a hallucination caused by the heat and poison. On one side, she quickly realizes Sara's been poisoned and checks her vitals to make sure she's actually okay which is something the real Felicity would do.

On the other side, she's also in the middle of Mexico. In the same air conditioner-less little inn as Sara. Wearing a thin little pale blue tank top and shorts. And, as far as she can tell, only that.

Hallucination, Sara decides. "There's no way this can be anything other than a fantasy."

Felicity doesn't deny it. Instead she tilts her head in a ridiculously cute way. "Fantasy?" she asks.

 

Instead of answering, Sara deflects the question with one of her own. Her fingers brush against the lobes of Felicity's ears where a pair of golden bird earrings sits. She doesn't have to ask to know that they're meant to be canaries.

Felicity offers an explanation without waiting for Sara's comment. She smiles mischievously as her fingers trace the curves of Sara's cheeks.

"I have fantasies too, you know."

 

"This isn't right," Sara breathes. "You're not real." It's not right to the real Felicity.

Felicity doesn't babble defensively, which Sara takes as further proof that she can't be anything more than a hallucination. Instead she tilts her head and grins mischievously as her fingers dance against the strings on Sara's corset. "I won't tell if you won't. It'll be our little secret."

Sara knows she shouldn't do it. It isn't right –it isn't good. But, then again, neither is she. She is Taer al-Asafer, the furthest thing from it. She's _bad_.

And for the first time in her life, she's almost happy about it.

 

There's an old Arabic proverb that roughly translates to " _if the wind blows, ride it._ "

It's important to live in the moment, Sara knows, when you don't know where the next moment will take you. It's something she has trouble with sometimes, having had to deal with far too many consequences of her actions. But it's something she needs to learn to be better about, she decides.

Because at that exact moment there is nothing is except the now, with Sara and Felicity, right here together.

 

She pushes her against the wall harder than she means to. Felicity gasps at the impact and the only thing that stops Sara from feeling guilt is the reminder that this is nothing more than her fantasy. So, instead, she smirks and catches Felicity's bottom lip between her teeth, causing a soft moan to escape her lips.

"Wrap your legs around me," she orders.

Sara doesn't wait for her response. Her hands wrap around Felicity's waist and lift her up. Felicity lets out an adorable surprised squeak, but doesn't forget her instructions and wraps her legs around the bottom of Sara's waist. Sara presses her against the wall, using it to help her support Felicity's tiny frame, as her lips kiss the bottom of her collar bones. Felicity makes a noise that comes out as a cross between a giggle and a gasp.

"Have I mentioned how much I love your vigilante muscles?" she asks. "Because I really d–ooh!"

 

Felicity's hands refuse to stray away from Sara's touch. They dance up and down her shoulders and neck, occasionally tangling themselves in her hair, pulling Sara closer and closer to her. Not that Sara's complaining. Or doing much better, she thinks as her tongue traces away a few drops of sweat at the top of Felicity's chest, just barely above the edges of her tank-top. But it's only when she hears Felicity's desperate moan as Sara's fingers dance against the elastic of her shorts that she freezes.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "If you… change your mind, at any point, just… just tell me, okay?" Because fantasy or not, she will not pressure Felicity into anything. She can't do that to her. She'd rather have nothing than that. "Tell me and I'll stop," she promises.

Felicity takes a shallow breath, trying to find her voice, before she mumbles, "If you even think about stopping, I will have some very mean things to say to you. In my loud voice."

Sara doesn't even try to hold back her laughter. "Noted."

 

Once upon a time, long before Taer al-Asafer, before the Amazo and Lian Yu, Sara had a bit of a reputation as a tease. Not in a way that left people alone and angry, but in a way that drove them to the point of desperation. The fun was always in the game for her, in the build, and she always took her sweet time with it, because it was always more fun and always worth it.

And now, standing there with Felicity thinly-clothed body pressed between her and the wall, she finds herself feeling very much like that twenty-two year old girl. Which both bodes well and horribly for the current object of her attention.

Her lips trace patterns in the crevice of her neck, the curves of her collar, the lining of her tank-top. Her fingers dare to go a little further, creeping under her shirt, but she always stops at the edge of her ribs, only daring to graze the bottom of her breasts. They go along the rim of her shorts, barely against her hips, almost-but-not-quite reaching any further south. She keeps her touches light and brief, always dancing on the edges of what exactly Felicity begs her to do.

 

The heat that fills the air no longer drives Sara as crazy as it did before.

(That or she's given into it, finding pleasure in the insanity.)

 

Sara wraps her arms around Felicity's waist and lifts her away from the wall. Once again, Felicity lets out another gasp and, if possible, her legs tighten around Sara. She giggles and wraps her arms around Sara's shoulder as she carries her to the bed.

The moment Sara lays her on the bed, Felicity grabs the bottom of the tank-top Sara's been dancing around and pulls it over her head, revealing her bare and slightly-flushed chest. Sara wants to pretend to be annoyed that Felicity took over her job, but she can't find the brain function to act cute.

But being cute is Felicity's specialty, and she tilts her head to the side and gives her a mischievous smile. "I was hot," she says innocently.

She still is, but Sara finds herself a bit too preoccupied to vocalize it.

 

She used to be a talker. Way back when. Not as much as Felicity, obviously, but she could go on for hours. That's changed now. She certainly isn't quiet, but she isn't the chatterbox she once was.

But, fortunately for Felicity, Sara's still got quite a talented tongue.

 

Felicity surprises her. One moment Sara's running her tongue along her rib cage, the next she feels her costume-corset fall from her back. And maybe it's the heat, or maybe it's the fact that she's pleasantly distracted, but she doesn't notice Felicity use her self-defense training until she's flipped them over.

Sara stares wide-eyed up at the IT-tech girl, who smirks back down at her. "You looked hot," Felicity casually explains her reasoning for removing her top as she straddles Sara's hips. "Still do, actually."

"Are you offering to cool me down?" Sara asks, her wits returning to her.

Felicity smirks. "Nope," she says, popping her 'p,' before she leans down and catches Sara's lips with hers.

"Good," Sara mummers into Felicity's mouth.

 

Felicity, Sara decides as her tongue runs around her nipple before catching it between her lips, also has a very talented tongue.

 

It's becoming some sort of competition between them, Sara thinks with an amused smile as she rolls them over so she's on top of Felicity again. Because Felicity, as it turns out, loves to be in charge. And Sara? Well, Sara's always been about control.

 _The battle of the blondes_ , she thinks in a ridiculously Felicity-way, to see who's really in control.

Except, unlike so many real battles they've been through, there's no loser here.

 

She pulls Felicity's shorts down slowly, one tug at a time. It's painful, she can tell, having her so close but still so far away from exactly what she wants. Sara kisses the ends of her stomach, the corners of her hips, the edges of her thighs. But by the time the shorts reach her knees, Felicity kicks them off herself.

Her smirk grows, and her fingers dance along the insides of Felicity's thighs. Felicity's breath grows heavier the closer Sara gets without ever reaching her destination. She kisses the inner most crevice of her thigh before sucking on it ever so lightly. She can tell she's fighting for control, but she can't help but moan.

And by the time Sara's slid into her, Felicity's all but screaming for her.

 

This time Sara sees it coming, but lets Felicity flip them over. She hears her mumble something about the amount of clothing not being fair as she grinds her hips against Sara's. Sara follows her rhythm, but Felicity refuses to let her have her way and instead slides off her hips and down her legs.

Felicity opens the buttons to Sara's pants and attempts to tug them down. The leather, however, refuses to move and sticks to her skin much more than Felicity's shorts stuck with her. And Sara silently curses the costume as she slips her hands down to help Felicity. But Felicity simply slaps her hands away and mumbles something about patience.

By the time Felicity's finally slid it off, leaving Sara in nothing but a lacy thong, she's pretty sure she no longer knows what the point of patience is.

 

Unfortunately for Sara, it turns out that Felicity is as much of a tease as she is. The single garment of clothing turns out to be her worst enemy as Felicity's tongue dances around it. She follows Sara's lead, using her tongue to tease the inner most parts of her thighs. But Felicity takes it one step further, brushing her lips ever so slightly against the moistest part of her underwear.

"Felicity," Sara moans.

"Yes?" she asks coquettishly, slipping off the thong. But she doesn't go any further, instead looking up at Sara with the most mischievous grin.

"Please." The beg slips from her lips before she can even comprehend the surrender. But she has no time to regret it because that's all Felicity needs, and she leans into Sara and licks.

Sara responds by crying in pleasure.

 

They lie in bed, a tangle of limbs, afterwards, with Felicity's forehead pressed against Sara's. Their heavy breaths mix in with the humid air, and the combination of it all should make it rather difficult to breathe, but she can't bring herself to care. Her attention's elsewhere.

"You should sleep," Felicity tells her as she traces seemingly random numbers on Sara's stomach. She ignores Sara's mumble of being fine, seeing through her façade without trying. "Things have to end. If they kept going, there would be no secret to keep," she explains. "Go to sleep, Sara."

She tries to protest, but a yawn comes out instead. Felicity smiles and kisses her eyes shut.

 

When Sara wakes the next morning, it's to an empty bed.

(She hides the disappointment by blaming it on Rose's poison.)

 

It takes her three days to return to Nada Parbat. She hasn't gotten over the disappointment, but has accepted it. After all, she knew it was nothing more than a fantasy when she walked into it. It didn't even make sense for it to be anything else.

Yet when she walks into her room, she finds a small package with no return address. And when she opens it, Sara almost laughs. There's no note and no proof it's actually what she wants it to be, and she supposes she'll never know. But she thinks she's okay with that, because the point of a secret is for no one else to know.

And, Sara thinks as she holds the canary-shaped earrings, this is one secret she's okay with keeping.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at smut, so any productive criticism would be great.


End file.
